


Reflection

by OnlySkyAboveMe



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fluff, His reflection in the glass did things to me, Tessa and her soft IG videos made me do this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 09:23:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16720674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlySkyAboveMe/pseuds/OnlySkyAboveMe
Summary: Sometimes everything you ever wanted is behind the glass, other times it's reflected in it.





	Reflection

It’s the day before the end. The last day of the tour; a tour which has been a whirlwind of red and white, enthusiastic fans, and memories to last a lifetime. The crew have just unloaded and opened up the display cases, though he’s not sure why. The shows aren’t until tomorrow, and everything in them is carefully secured in place for transport. Yet, there she stands, staring at 21 years’ worth of memories inside a flight case, their first competitive costumes…and their last. They contain their precious Olympic medals (even that silver one he – now regretfully – once used as a hockey puck one desperate night in his parent’s garage) and various other bits of team Canada gear and memorabilia they thought the fans would be excited to see. She has her phone in her hand, seemingly filming or photographing the precious cargo.

He knows she’s in her feelings today, and he’s slightly overwhelmed himself that the final day of the tour is nearly upon them. It feels like just yesterday they began all this – arguably one of the most fulfilling things he’s done in his life so far. He’s found pure joy on this tour, and has skated with reckless abandon, leaving the ice each night with his throat sore and dry from singing, whilst his eyes prickle with the onset of elated tears. He attempts to sneak up behind her as she moves her phone across the display, but their eyes quickly find each other’s in their reflections, and she turns her camera on him suddenly, a mischievous glint in her eye and the most beautiful giggle on her lips.

~

They stroll hand in hand through a small, sun-drenched square in Palma, Mallorca; two denim-clad tourists enjoying a moment of respite away from the rest of the group on the Great Kitchen Party trip. They take full advantage of the afternoon off, tasting local wines and seafood in the market, buying trinkets for their nieces and nephews, and bottles of rich, peppery olive oil for their parents and siblings. She buys him a wheat straw fedora with a deep red band. He knows what he wants to buy her, has known for a while now, but he can’t quite find what he is looking for.

The sun moves across the sky and is obscured behind the bell tower of the nearest church, its heavy iron inhabitants clanging melodically to signal the start of a new hour. His attention is caught for a moment by the flock of doves that vacate their previously peaceful sanctuary, swooping across the square to perch upon the small fountain that sits modestly at its centre. When he turns back, she is no longer standing next to him. He glances around, seeking her out like a moth to the iridescent glow of the moon, and quickly spots her in the far corner of the square peering into the window of a small shop, above the door of which hangs a sign declaring it to be a _joyería_.

Her gaze seems to be fixed to one spot on the other side of the glass and he approaches her slowly, though she is oblivious to his reflection in front of her. He pauses when he hears the call of another woman from a few metres away, and she raises her head to the sound and makes her way towards her friend, eager to tell her of their adventures around town this afternoon. Whilst she is occupied, he slips into the shop, met at the door by a tiny man with metal-workers hands and a kind smile. He requests, through a mixture of basic Spanish and exaggerated gestures, to see the contents of the trays in the window. He leaves the shop five minutes later with his long-sought gift, the blessing of an elderly jeweller, and a glint in his eye to match the contents of the box in his pocket.

~

She stares through the glass at their son, wriggling around on the hospital-issue blue blanket, the similarly blue card tied to the end of the crib declaring him to be theirs. She sighs in contentment as she watches a nurse make her way over to him, tucking his tiny limbs back beneath the warm wool and pulling his hat back down over his ears.

She hears him chuckle above her and casts her eyes upwards slightly, taking in his reflection in the glass, hovering over her as he leans gently on the handles of the wheelchair in which she is sitting – much to her chagrin. She smiles to herself, remembering all the times before when he would walk up behind her as she did her hair and makeup in the mirror, or as she looked into shop windows to admire displays of shoes, or flowers, or books. Each time, his bright hazel eyes would seek her out, gazing at her reflection until her attention was caught and she would meet his gaze before turning herself to him. But now he’s looking straight through the glass, no longer distracted by their reflections, not when there’s a whole new life to focus on instead.

She watches _his_ reflection though and takes great joy in seeing his eyes go wide in delight when the nurse approaches with their son in her arms. Their son, who is now awake and showing off his own pair of piercing green eyes – and it’s like looking into a mirror.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure I've ever written something so fast.
> 
> His reflection in the glass walking towards her did things to me...and this is how I'm expressing it!


End file.
